


Step Outside These Walls

by nightshifted



Category: Glee
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-12
Updated: 2011-12-12
Packaged: 2017-10-27 05:58:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/292384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightshifted/pseuds/nightshifted
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It starts after the thing with her Abuela, which no, she still does not want to talk about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Step Outside These Walls

It starts after the thing with her Abuela, which no, she still does not want to talk about it.

For as long as Santana remembers, Wednesday afternoons belonged to her and her Abuela. After school, she'd be at her grandmother's, being stuffed with Dominican pastries and told stories in a slew of quick-fire Spanglish. Santana loves it there, loves her Abuela, and wishes, more than anything, that she could still feel her Abuela loving her back.

The first Wednesday is the hardest. The Troubletones have just finished rehearsing a tough dance number, and there's a moment in between the haze of aching muscles where the familiarity of routine takes over, and Santana actually anticipates that she'll be seeing her grandmother in an hour, just like she had last week, and the week before that.

But then she remembers that she'd become _una verguenza_ , and the force of the realization nearly knocks her over. She manages to exchange quick goodbyes with the rest of the group before letting the first tears squeeze out from behind her eyelids. She crouches down over her bag and waits for everyone else to file out, taking slow, deep breaths to calm herself.

"Santana?"

Santana hides her face, trying unsuccessfully to blot the tears from her face. Shelby's the only one left, and her voice rings clearly in the empty room.

"Everything okay?"

Santana nods and clears her throat. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"Is there something I can—"

"No," Santana interrupts quickly. "No, I'm just—" She bites back a sob, embarrassed.

"Santana," Shelby says softly. "I'm not here to judge you. And I know that it's none of my business, but I do watch TV and hang out in the teacher's lounge, so if—"

Santana whips around. "You _talk_ about me in the _teacher's lounge_?"

"No, no, not like that." Shelby holds out her hands defensively. "I know you were having a hard time last week; that's all." She pauses and drops her arms. "If you need someone to talk to, I've been told I have a pretty decent ear." She smiles at her own joke.

Santana rolls her eyes, but then takes a deep breath. "My Abuela—" Her voice cracks. "She refuses to talk to me because she thinks I should've kept this _thing_ a secret."

"Can you do that?" Shelby asks gently. "Keep yourself a secret?"

Santana's eyes lower. "I did for so long. I don't want to anymore."

"Give your Abuela some time," Shelby suggests. "She'll come around."

Santana wills herself not to start crying again. "Yeah, it just sucks, you know? Wednesday afternoons were kind of our thing."

"Why don't you come over to my place for a little while? I don't know how you feel about babies, but I can assure you that Beth will keep you busy, maybe keep your mind off everything."

Santana doesn't spend much time thinking about babies in general, other than the fact that they probably barf on everything or whatever, but she really doesn't want to go home and sit in an empty house and think about her grandmother disowning her, so the alternative Shelby is offering her suddenly looks pretty good.

"Yeah, okay. Let me go home and shower first."

Shelby pulls out a pad of paper and scribbles her address on it.

\--

Santana feels weird standing at Shelby's door. She isn't really sure what to expect – not from Shelby, and certainly not from Beth. Like, what happens if she drops Beth on her head or something? What if she curses and Beth starts mimicking her? Can she even speak yet? God, maybe Santana should've just stayed home.

Shelby answers the door and invites her in, and Santana smiles a little at how messy the place is: toys on the floor, plastic cups on the counter. Beth herself is lying down in her playpen, but her eyes are open and she lifts her head at Santana's entrance.

"She's just waking up from a nap," Shelby explains in a low voice. "Make yourself comfortable. She'll be a complete terror in a few minutes."

Santana kicks off her shoes and steps into the living room. Her hands suddenly feel painfully empty. Should she have brought something? Slowly, she approaches the playpen, glancing anxiously at Shelby as she does.

As though sensing her apprehension, Shelby offers an encouraging smile. "Don't be nervous. She doesn't bite. Might drool a little though."

"I just don't really—"

Beth rises suddenly, her tiny fists gripping the edge of her playpen as she peers up at Santana. Startled, Santana takes a step back, nearly knocking into a wooden beam. Shelby walks past her and leans down to pick Beth up.

"Hi baby," she coos. "Say hello to Santana."

Beth whimpers and tucks her face against Shelby's neck. Shelby runs her fingers through Beth's curls for a moment before placing her gently back into the playpen.

"Hold on. She's hungry. I'm going to get her some applesauce."

Santana watches Shelby walk to the kitchen, then turns back to Beth, who's still watching her with curious eyes. Tentatively, Santana crouches down next to the playpen and smiles. Babies like smiles, right? Beth flashes a grin in return, which puts Santana at ease. Beth raises an arm upward, stomping her tiny feet against the floor of the playpen.

"She wants to be picked up," Shelby explains, approaching from behind with a small container of applesauce and a spoon in her hand, a Sesame Street bib in the other. With one hand, she leans down and scoops Beth up into her free arm.

Shelby takes a seat on the couch and adjusts Beth on her lap, then motions for Santana to join her as she attaches the bib under Beth's chin. Santana sits down beside Shelby, smiling at Beth as Shelby feeds her applesauce. A few spoonsful in, Beth babbles something incoherent and strains against Shelby's grip, reaching for Santana. Shelby holds on tightly, but she shifts the container and spoon to one hand and looks over at Santana.

"Would you like to hold her?"

Santana's eyes widen. "I—uh, sure, I guess."

Shelby places Beth on Santana's lap, and Santana moves one arm to cradle Beth's back, the other tugging lightly at the bib to readjust it. Beth tilts her head up to look at Santana.

"She likes you," Shelby says.

Santana flushes. "Well, I mean, what's not to like, right?"

Shelby smiles and nods. Beth leans her head against Santana's chest and keeps it there while she eats the rest of her applesauce.

It's—well, it's nice. She likes Beth, and Shelby, too, if she's forced to admit it. Plus, Shelby had been right; once Beth finishes her applesauce and pulls out of her drowsy state, she starts to crawl around excitedly, babbling to herself. Santana chases her around Shelby's apartment, steadying her when she wobbles, making faces at her to amuse her, and the little thing totally _adores_ her for whatever reason. Santana loves the attention, loves to be _loved_ , and okay, Beth is kind of cute as far as babies go.

It keeps Santana occupied, keeps her mind off everything she doesn't want to think about.

\--

Things don't really improve with her Abuela. She's just so _resentful_ of Santana's actions that she refuses to have anything to do with her, and yeah, it hurts, but if there's one thing her Abuela's taught her, it's how to fight through adversity. So she takes it day by day and keeps herself busy, surrounds herself with supportive people. The hardest part had been admitting to herself that she couldn't go it alone.

Shelby keeps inviting her over on Wednesday afternoons, and she keeps saying yes. Beth calls her 'Tana' as easily as she calls Shelby 'Mama', and suddenly, she's important. Suddenly, she's needed and wanted and _significant_. Maybe Quinn had been onto something after all, however misguided her efforts had been.

Santana would never like, try to steal Beth or anything. She's pretty sure she can't even change a diaper without gagging, but she still likes the way Beth looks at her like she's always excited to see her.

Most of the time, Santana forgets that this is the same kid she kept calling the lizard demon spawn when Quinn was carrying her.

\--

"I'm attracted to girls," she tells Beth one afternoon when Shelby's not in the room, even though she's pretty sure Beth has no idea what she's talking about. Santana flinches, almost expecting Beth to suddenly pull away or start to cry. It doesn't exactly help that the last person she admitted that to kicked her out of the house. When Beth fails to react, Santana takes a deep breath to steady herself. "Grown up girls, I mean. They're just so soft and pretty, you know?" She runs her fingers through Beth's curly blond hair. "You wouldn't judge me for that, would you?"

Beth stares up at her for a moment, quietly, almost as though sensing the seriousness in the air. A sound at the door startles her, and she turns to see Shelby leaning against the doorjamb.

Santana's cheeks grow hot. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have—"

"It's okay," Shelby reassures quickly, taking a step into the room. "Santana, it's fine. It's never too early to teach a little acceptance."

Santana turns back to Beth. "I just don't understand how we take these affectionate babies and teach them to hate people like me so fiercely."

Shelby's expression softens as she takes a seat next to Santana on the floor. "Beth will never be taught how to do that."

Santana looks down at her lap, holding back tears. Shelby slides her hand over Santana's and keeps it there as Santana leans her head against Shelby's shoulder. Beth pushes herself slowly to her feet, her hands finding Santana's face and grabbing at Santana's cheeks.

The gesture makes Santana smile.

\--

"Why is Sugar still on the team?" Santana asks Shelby over an early dinner at Shelby's. "She can't sing!"

"Santana," Shelby warns.

"She can barely even dance," Santana continues. "Mercedes has a bit of a 'tude, but at least the girl's got pipes."

Shelby sighs. "Her father is funding the Troubletones. I can't just kick her off."

"She's like a little baby chimp hopped up on speed," Santana grumbles, crossing her arms over her chest.

"She's a very spirited girl. She works hard and brings a ton of energy to the group. You'd be surprised how big an effect that has."

Santana falls silent. She's not really upset about Sugar being in the Troubletones, even if she is painfully unaware of her lack of talent in the performing arts. It's just… easier to be mad at something than to deal with her feelings. She's spent her entire life perfecting the art of deflection, picking someone else to be the target of the turmoil of emotions constantly swirling inside her.

Shelby watches Santana for a moment. "Something on your mind?"

Santana looks down at her pasta. "I've been thinking a lot about the future. About… growing up, I guess. Now that I'm out and proud of whatever, I feel like I can think beyond the walls of Ohio. And it's—well, it's a lot of things that I never really considered. They don't teach you this stuff at school. Not just how to be a _lesbian_ , but how to… I don't know, plan a family." She shifts uncomfortably in her seat, feeling Shelby's gaze fixed on her. "Spending all this time with Beth has made me realize that yeah, I'd probably like to have kids one day. But if I end up living my life with another woman, biology's kind of working against me there. Sometimes I wonder if I'm making this all up in my head, if maybe I'm supposed to just marry some guy and raise a family with him like my Abuela wants me to do so badly. Be _normal_."

"Santana," Shelby addresses gently. "You are the only person who knows who you're attracted to and what you want out of life. Don't ever let what society dictates as normal invalidate your feelings. Hey." Shelby waits for Santana's gaze to lift before glancing at Beth, seated in her high chair, and continuing. "Family isn't about biology, Santana."

Santana smiles a little. "Yeah, I guess you're right. Thanks, Shelby."

Shelby returns the smile. "It's cute that you think Mercedes is the only one on the Troubletones with an attitude problem though."

Santana scoffs. "Oh please. I keep it real, and I'm hilarious. You totally love me."

Santana looks up just in time to catch Shelby's expression shift from one of amusement to one that looks too much like realization.

\--

When Puck tells her – because he can't keep his fucking mouth shut, and _shit_ , she's never wanted to fucking know who he's fooling around with – she rolls her eyes and tells him to stop being disgusting.

When he leaves, she smashes her fist into the nearest brick wall hard enough to draw blood.

\--

Shelby calls her when she misses Troubletones practice, and she promptly ignores the call. _Fuck_ , she doesn't even know why she's so pissed. Like, Shelby's a grown-ass woman and can make her own decisions, even if they're horrible ones like deciding to fall into bed with Noah Puckerman. Everything is so stupid.

Santana recognizes the feeling as _betrayal_ , which is the shittiest part of all. Because what the hell. Shelby didn't do anything to wrong her. But it doesn't change the fact that she feels the way she feels, like Shelby went behind her back with Puck. Nothing fucking makes sense.

But part of being an adult, Santana has learned, is that she has to take full responsibility for her actions and her feelings. It's not fair to take out her frustrations on Shelby, and hell, she misses Beth. Not everything is as easy as burrowing her head in the mud and completely ignoring the issue. She's learned that the hard way. She doesn't want to lose Beth over this, but the truth is, she doesn't want to lose Shelby, either.

So Santana texts Shelby to ask if she can drop by, and Shelby of course invites her over. Half an hour later, Santana finds herself standing just inside Shelby's apartment. It's weird being there, heavy, like something's shifted between them even though little has.

Santana takes a deep breath, but before she can get an apology out, Shelby takes her hand and notices the cuts on her knuckles.

"What happened?"

"I—um, nothing." Santana flinches. She'd forgotten about this part. "Got into a fight and punched out some asshole."

"Santana, this looks scratched," Shelby broaches carefully. "Like it's been scratched against concrete."

Santana looks away and pulls her hand away. "I'm fine."

Shelby looks concerned but lets it go. "Okay. You want something to drink?"

Santana glances down at her feet. "No thanks."

Shelby turns and walks to the kitchen, where she opens a cabinet and pulls out a glass, then fills it with orange juice. She leans against the counter and takes a sip. "You sure? Because I—"

"Yes, I'm sure!" Santana snaps. "Stop treating me like a child!"

Shelby's body tenses, and she puts her glass down, slowly straightening herself. But when she speaks, her voice is soft. "Santana, I've never once treated you like a child. It's frankly insulting that that you think I'd think of you as one."

Santana swallows thickly, feeling her cheeks burning. "I didn't mean—"

"What is this about?" Shelby broaches gently.

Santana wraps her arms around herself protectively. "Puck is a moron."

Shelby freezes in place, and she doesn't say anything for a good minute. Then, "He shouldn't have told you."

"Yeah, well, anything you do with Puck kind of becomes public domain."

Shelby leads Santana to the couch, where they sit silently side by side for a few minutes. Shelby reaches over and wraps her hand around Santana's wrist, holding it gingerly, and Santana doesn't move away.

Finally, Santana sighs. "Why would you _sleep_ with him? I've boarded that train before, and he's really nothing to write home about. Plus, I could've told you that he has a thing for older women. You were probably just like, a sick little conquest for him."

"Santana."

"I know, I know, it's none of my business. But friends don't let friends sleep with Noah Puckerman." Santana purses her lips. "And anyway, I'm a much better lay. If you were really that desperate…"

Shelby laughs, hiding her face. "Santana."

Santana echoes the laugh, then quickly sobers. "I punched a brick wall," she admits, flexing her fingers and watching the cuts on her knuckles bend across her skin. "It was stupid. I don't even know why I was so pissed."

Shelby smiles, leaning into Santana's shoulder as she shifts her hand to brush over the cuts with her fingertips. "Friends don't let friends punch walls with their bare fist."

\--

The Troubletones lose Sectionals, which is bullshit as far as Santana is concerned, but the results are official, and the lights go down on the group, and it's _over_. It's. Over. Santana's moment to shine is over, and she'll probably have to go back to singing backup for Rachel Berry. Basically, life blows.

Santana finds herself at Shelby's after it's all said and done, because misery loves company, and because in the entire state of Ohio, Shelby's is where Santana feels safest.

She helps Shelby tuck Beth into bed – and okay, they may or may not have sung _Hush Little Baby_ as a duet to put her to sleep. After, Santana sits on the kitchen counter and watches Shelby attempt to tidy up some of Beth's toys scattered across the floor.

"What do you think is going to happen to the Troubletones?" Santana asks.

"I don't know," Shelby admits. "I'll have to talk to Figgins and sort it all out."

Santana sighs, leaning her weight against her arms. "If we disband, are you staying around?" It doesn't occur to her until then how much she'd miss Shelby if she weren't around.

Shelby looks up, and Santana catches the same thought reflected in Shelby's features. "I still have a sub position at McKinley, so it's likely, but I'm not sure."

"You can't just take Beth away from me, you know. She's gotten like, attached to me. It'd be cruel."

Shelby grins. "Cruel to whom?"

Santana scoffs, feeling her own cheeks burn up. "Whatever. I didn't say I wouldn't miss her too."

Shelby stands up, tossing a stuffed bear into Beth's playpen and taking the few steps into the kitchen. She makes her way over to Santana and stands in front of her, hips level with the counter.

"Thanks," Santana says suddenly, "for, you know, being an awesome show choir director. You helped make the last few months bearable for me, and I'll never forget that."

Shelby smiles and closes the distance between them, taking Santana's hands in hers. She doesn't say anything, but she doesn't have to. After a moment, Santana lets out a breath and pulls Shelby into an embrace, squeezing her tight. Santana's heart hurts all of a sudden, like she's being pulled in a hundred different directions and she can't figure out why.

Santana's ankles curl around the backs of Shelby's thighs, and Shelby pulls away slightly.

"Santana," she breathes out, her hands sliding to Santana's hips.

"Sorry," Santana mumbles, but she keeps her ankles there, and Shelby doesn't ask her to move them. "You know I graduate in a couple months, right?"

Shelby laughs a little at that. "I do."

"Can we just agree that a diploma is basically like a ticket into your pants or what?"

Shelby reaches up and brushes a few strands of hair away from Santana's face, expression serious as she answers. "We'll see."

Santana smiles, her body inexplicably warm. "Yeah, we'll see," she echoes.

_fin_


End file.
